Hidden Scars
by Hell's Angel 345
Summary: What if Michael had left someone else behind in Chicago, someone who shared his hatred for The Company, and would kill to see them brought down? Someone who he loved completley, and the only person able to destroy him? Better than it sounds.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: This is a PB fic. At the moment, there's not much plot. Just a few of my crazy ramblings, attempting to give a back story and some explanation to Michael and Bella's relationship. It's very vague, but I promise it will all be explained in full detail later on. When the storyline does come along, it will be mainly focused on my OC's experience with The Company, and how she chooses to bring them down, as opposed to Michael's escape.**_

She always thought of love as a lit cigarette.

The embers glowing brightly, burning through the air.

Hot as any other fire.

Until one more breath causes the flame to darken, and the ash to fall.

Extinguished and forgotten.

-0-

She stubbed out her sixth cigarette- or was it her ninth? There was no point keeping track anymore. And he wasn't here to do it for her.

He was gone from her world. He had left her alone, with no one else to turn to.

So she sat in the dark, her back against the wall, chainsmoking and wiping away the constant flood of tears.

-0-

He was always pale. Even in the summer time.

He would spend most of the day outside, mowing the lawn shirtless, the sun beating down on him, yet when he finally came inside and collasped on the bed next to her, his skin was as white as the freshly washed sheets.

-0-

His eyes were the color of the ocean. A gorgeous array of blues and greens she could never describe on paper or in words.

They crinkled in the corners when he laughed or smiled.

Lashes longer than her own.

She always mocked him for it, said eyes that pretty belonged on a supermodel, not an structual engineer.

-0-

His body was flawless, not barring any imperfections.

No scars, no moles... Not even a tattoo.

It was all smooth lines and sharp creases beneath her hands.

His skin always chilled.

-0-

She had loved all these small and insignifigant things about him.

She was constantly pointing them out to him- '_Your brows furrow when you cry', _or _'Did you ever notice that you shimmy your ass when you laugh?'_

He always grinned at her, tousling her hair while shaking his head. _'You have a brain way to big for your pretty little head,' _he'd tell her.

And at night, after he thought she'd fallen asleep, he would stroke her ringless finger, and whisper sweet nothings into her ear.

It was all these things that made her love him.

But now they were gone- and so was he.

-0-

Michael Schofield stared at the picture he kept taped next to his bunk. Sucre had never asked him about it, and he was partly glad for that. He wasn't sure he could ever explain it- or her.

It was a beautiful picture.

Her skin was sun kissed, glowing goldenly. Eyes shining, the gorgeous green orbs smirking at him. Her full mouth was curved into a stunning smile.

He was next to her, his arm thrown around her, laughing at some smartass comment she had made.

It was taken long before he had gotten inked, long before Linc had been arrested.

It was his favorite picture.

But, now, at night, when all the other inmates were silent, and all he could hear was Sucre's snoring and his own thoughts, he rolled away from the image.

Because he was gone from her world.

He had left her alone, with no one else to turn to.

And he had no idea if he would ever make it back.

-0-

They had met two years ago, June 19th. It was a night he would never forget.

Lincoln had called him, about two in the morning. Begging and pleading for a ride home from a dingy bar in the dives. Was to drunk to make it home, he said.

Like any good brother, he came.

He remembered the shouting, coming from the alleyway. He went to investigate and saw her.

She was beautiful, in an unusual way. All soft curves and quiet muscles. Delicious chocolate hair, eyes like glowing ember.

She was fighting with some prick. He was obviously drunk, and had her pinned against a wall.

Michael was just about to intercept when she twisted the man's arm to a painful angle, quickly kicking his feet out from under him and bringing him roughly to his knees.

He watched as she struck the man, her fist closed and lightening fast. Blood began flowing down the drunken fools face, yet she didn't let up.

She drove her elbow into his nose, and Michael moved from his stance in the shadows when he heard bone crushing.

Gently, he cupped her shoulder. She spun around wildly, hand reaching for the knife sheathed at her her hip.

He made a quick grab at her palm, bringing it away from the weapon. "He's had enough," he whispered.

Shaking, Bella had nodded. She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and her lips parted to speak when Lincoln rounded the corner, stumbling and babbling.

Tearing her hand from his, she disapeared into the night.

-0-

It was two weeks later when she found him. She knocked on his apartment door at 5:30 one morning, covered in blood and sporting a cut in her hairline, just above her ear. There was now a permanet scar.

Offering no explanation, she asked if he had any towels.

Confused, Michael had brought her inside and allowed her to clean herself up. After she was in a clean shirt and pair of shorts of his, the blood wiped off her face, he demanded to know who she was, how she knew where he lived.

She gave a brief description of what had happened. There was no way around it. Said she had no family, and no one could find her. They kissed that night, and she spent the next in his apartment.

-0-

He couldn't turn her away. Being through what she had been through... He couldn't even imagine that kind of pain.

There was something about her. Under the dark, sarcastic exterior, the was a lightness to her. A daring bravery, a burning spark. She was the gasoline to his fire.

His family and friends warned him not to get involved with her. Lincoln said she was trouble, Veronica couldn't stand her. His few work friends didn't know she exsisted. L.J was the only one who approved, and he was just a boy.

She came into his life broken. He was constantly trying to pick up the pieces, desperatly searching for the glue to put them back together.

She was always pushing him-

_"Lay hands on me, badass! Come on, you think you can hurt me?"_

The fights were bad. Shoving into each others limits, throwing and destroying anything they thought would help. She believed she was invincible, that he wasn't capable of hurting her.

But he had.

And the memory that haunted him most, was the one of her eyes boring into his, their normal jaded green color flashing with blues and silvers as she threw all of her pain and rage into her last words to him.

_"I'm sorry, goddamn it! Okay, I'm sorry! I never said I was perfect. I told you I wasn't cut out for this, for your life! I can't just have a white picket fence fairy tale! I'm living in the dark side of this world, and I can't get out. So, yeah, I'm sorry. But I only promised to try."_


	2. Chapter 2

"Yard time!"

Michael stood as his cell door began to slide open. He shuffled behind Sucre into the line of inmates.

It was his third day here and he was holding it all together as best as he could. A tiny voice shouted at him at night- '_You didn't even tell her goodbye!', _it said accusingly.

It made him feel sick, flirting with Sarah. He had known it would be necasary, but it made him feel... Unfaithful.

It wasn't like he and Bella Thorp had still been together when he robbed the bank. She had moved out a few months prior, when his plan- and his obsession- first started growing.

Their relationship wasn't perfect, by any means. It was based mostly on pain, about needing to hurt themselves, but it was love to the strongest degree. She always refered it to a lit cigarette. Such a small flame doesn't pose much harm, she always said.

_Until it touches gasoline... _Was his only response.

And now she had no idea where he was even at.

-0-

"Goddamn it, Veronica, just tell me where he is!"

Bella focused all of her anger into a strong kick, aimed at the chair sitting behind the lawyer's desk. Running her hands threw her mahogany hair, she took a deep breath and turned to face Veronica, who still stood by the door.

The uptight bitch sneered at Bella, "What makes you think I know?"

"You know."

She took a few steps toward Bella, puffing out her chest. "And why would I tell you?"

Bella matched Veronica's advance with one of her own. Taking another step closer, she landed directly in front of the other woman, her sea green eyes radiating hate.

The lawyer was smart enough to step back. "Do you have any idea how much you hurt Michael?" Her voice was smaller, her spine rigid with slight fear. She knew of the things Bella had done, had been through.

_Hurt him?_

"Michael changed after Linc was charged. You know it just as well as I do. Don't pretend that I damaged him. He was broken long before I came in the picture. But if you think he's hurt now, what do you think he'll do if he never sees me again, never know if I'm alive or dead?"

Veronica couldn't deny the truth in her statement. What this self-destructive woman and Michael had... It was scary as hell, and only brought grief, but it was powerful.

She took a deep breath and reached into her purse. Bella's hand immeaditly flew to the shoulder holster currently concealed by her leather jacket.

"Relax." She pulled out the slip of paper bearing Fox River's address. "Here..."

-0-

Michael couldn't deny the doctor was attractive.

But after Bella, other women seemed very plain to him. No one had her fire.

Still, he put on a good show. Grinning charismatically, cracking jokes. She always reciperacated.

In a little while, when PI came around, he would test Sucre. He hoped the other man could be trusted.

But not many could.

-0-

Michael felt like screaming when Sucre had left the cell. He felt like crying when Haywire moved in.

Haywire's obsession with his tattoos was growing, and the entire plan was three days behind.

He needed to get rid of him, and fast.

-0-

Bella fluffed her hair nervously, wishing for the first time in her life that she had a compact.

She glanced down at her outfit for the millionth time. Tight and frayed jeans, white tank under her leather jacket. Thick, black hardware boots. The usual for her.

She brought her hand to her stomach, and she could feel it there, underneath her shirt. Red and angry, her scar ran from just below her breast to the button of her jeans.

She had first stupidly thought that some kind of cover could be found, a way to conceal it while naked. She had been terrified that Michael wouldn't want her. But it was there, forever, a constant reminder of her pain.

She had been forced to leave her gun behind, but she still had two knives hidden in her boot.

Raking her hands through her hair for the last time, she licked her lips and entered the gate of Fox River.

-0-

He expected Veronica to be at the table when his visit came about. Seeing Bella sitting there, biting her lip, made him literally lose his breath.

Trying to calm his nerves, he walked over to the table she was at, staying quiet, he stayed to the side out of her line of sight. "Should've known you'd find me."

Hair whipping around her pretty face, she spun to face him, already motioning toward the knife he knew was in her boot. She never went anywhere unarmed.

"Wouldn't be a good idea to pull that out in here," he reminded her, taking a seat.

Sighing, she stared at him, searching his face for something. Her eyes danced across his skin, checking to see if he was really there, really okay.

"What are you doing in here, Michael?"

"Didn't you hear? I robbed a bank." There was a sarcastic edge to his voice.

"Bullshit. You're working on something. Veronica's too worried, too scared... I'm guessing... early parole?"

"Something like that," he admitted. There was no point lying to her. "You always were good at reading people."

"Everyone except you, right? You were always searching my soul, or some other fucked-up Hollywood cliche. Trying to save me... You wouldn't listen when I told you I wasn't savable."

Michael's anger flared. "For Christ's sake, those bastards _cut you open! _They almost killed you, killed the one thing that mattered the most. What they did to you... What you had to do to th-"

"I didnt't _have_ to do anything."

"They killed your baby, Bella. _Our_ baby!"

-0-


End file.
